The Redemption of Draco Malfoy
by MamaWeasley
Summary: Draco Malfoy is an evil, slimy, ambitious git who wants to join the Dark Lord. He'll stay that way until the day he dies. Or will he? A bittersweet romance. Note: became AU after release of OOTP.
1. Default Chapter

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The Redemption of Draco Malfoy

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Chapter 1: The Interview

The light streamed through the picture windows behind Lucius Malfoy, leaving his fifteen-year-old son, Draco, in his shadow. 

Lucius glared over the polished mahogany desk at the frowning face in front of him. "Before you leave for Hogwarts this year, we have some business to conduct. First of all, your grades absolutely must improve. I will be most upset if you are not Head Boy in keeping with the Malfoy tradition."

"But, Father–I've already been made a prefect–"

A stern scowl from Lucius was enough to quell the protest rising from his son. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, the elder Malfoy continued.

"Second, I have been trying to regain my Master's trustand for your own good, you will help me."

Draco ran his hand through his sleek blond hair uncertainly, wondering what he could do, but saying nothing.

"I need someone who can inform me about the whereabouts of a certain Mr. Potter so that I can deliver him to the Master before the end of the school year."

Draco's pale blue eyes narrowed. "Well, Father, the Gryffindors do share Potions lessons with us–and Care of Magical Creatures–but–"

"Yes I know. But I can tell that even you realize that abducting him in front of twenty witnesses is a bad idea. No, you must find out where he will be when he is alone. Or, perhaps, with only one other person. Eliminating just one witness is not a difficulty. Now, to obtain that sort of information"–here Lucius smirked maliciously–"you need to befriend Mr. Potter."

"Befriend? But Father–he hates me! And for good cause! I've dueled him tons of times before! I've put jinxes on his friends! I've" Draco stopped suddenly, seeing his father's hand come to rest on his wand.

"I suggest, my brilliant son, that if it is impossible to befriend Mr. Potter, you find another way to get the information." A slow, cold smile spread over Lucius Malfoy's face. "I am quite sure that if the Dark Lord were standing here in front of you, you would find the task quite possible. Quite possible indeed. Remember, Draco–"

"Every Dark wizard worth his salt can find a path to power." The words that had been drummed into Draco since he was a child sprang unbidden to his lips. "I will find a way, Father." 

"You will contact me promptly when you have the information in hand." Coming from anyone else, these words would have been phrased as a question. Lucius made them into a command.

"Yes, Father." 

"Very good, son. You are dismissed." 

Draco turned and exited his father's study slowly. Once the door was closed behind him, however, he fled to his room, eager to pack his trunk for the first time in five years. Someday, he thought to himself, Father will not boss me around like that. Someday I will pay him out for treating me this way.


	2. The Prefect

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Chapter 2: The Prefect

For the entire ride on the Hogwarts Express, and for a whole week after that, Draco Malfoy was almost silent. He didn't address Crabbe or Goyle unless he absolutely had to (which made the fifth-year Slytherin boys' dormitory very quiet; Crabbe and Goyle didn't have the brains to start conversations on their own). He didn't speak in class–not even to Snape, his idol. The whole of his mind was occupied on his problem.

How in the world could he possibly befriend Potter? There was no way. It was utterly impossible. The natural conclusion was that he could get the information from one of Potter's friends. But which one?

Hermione Granger he ruled out right away. Even if she could forgive him for jeering at Hagrid and for giving her fangs temporarily, he could never associate with her. She was a Mudblood. Oh, true, for the Dark Lord's sake one could temporarily associate with a Mudblood. But he would never be able to endure the taunts he was sure to get from Crabbe and Goyle.

Ron Weasley he decided against almost as quickly. Draco thought it was pure luck that he hadn't yet been punched in the face by Ron. He figured it would happen at least once before he left Hogwarts, but he wasn't eager to hasten the day of reckoning.

But if not those two–if not Harry Potter's inseparable companions–then who? Neville Longbottom fled in terror at the mere sight of Draco (probably something to do with the Leg-Locker spell Draco had put on him during their first year). Seamus Finnigan lived to exchange insults with Malfoy on the Quidditch field. And Dean Thomas was another Mudblood. 

These thoughts were spinning through Draco's head once again as he slowly climbed the stairs from the dungeon and turned toward the great marble staircase in the entry hall. One of his duties as a prefect was to comb through the lower part of the castle before curfew to round up any stragglers who remained in the classroom areas. He thought bitterly that, when he was as preoccupied as he had been recently, he could have walked past a gang of giggling girls and not noticed.

He walked slowly down a corridor on the second floor, hands in his pockets, scowling. Then, as he passed the Transfiguration classroom, he heard a faint sound. He stopped, all of his senses suddenly alert. After a long silence, he heard it again. It sounded like a muffled sob. Draco let his breath out slowly. The door to the Transfiguration room was only slightly ajar, so he could not see inside. 

Who could be in there? Surely not McGonagall, at this time of night? The thought of the stern Assistant Headmistress breaking down in tears brought a smile to his lips. No, it must be a student. He would have to get whoever-it-was back to their House before curfew time.

He opened the door cautiously and looked around. At first glance, the classroom appeared empty. But then he saw a glimpse of red near McGonagall's desk.

It was red hair. Flaming red hair. Long flaming WEASLEY hair. Not Ron, not Fred or George–but Ginny. Draco smiled suddenly as the realization hit him. Here, perhaps, was the solution to his problem.

He walked quietly to the front of the room and around to the far side of the desk, where Ginny sat huddled, crying quietly. He must be cautious about this; as diplomatic as possible. Father would be, no doubt. Inwardly, Draco winced. He had always feared his father, and did not really care to be much like him. Still, he must try–or face Father's wrath.

"Er–Ginny, isn't it? Can I help you?"

Ginny looked up, glaring daggers at him. "Yeah, sure! You can get lost!"

Draco, remembering all he'd heard about the tempers of redheads, fought to suppress a smile. "Well, I don't mean to be insensitive or anything, but curfew is in fifteen minutes, and I thought–well, I thought you might like to dry your eyes or something before you went into your common room." Digging in his pocket, he produced a clean handkerchief (bless Mother, he thought; she always packed him so many hankies) and offered it to the red-faced, red-haired girl in front of him.

Ginny looked at him suspiciously. "I'd rather visit Moaning Myrtle's bathroom!" she said, turning away from the proffered handkerchief.

Draco scowled. "Oh, come on, it's not poisoned or anything."

Ginny smirked. "Yeah, like I'd believe that, coming from a Malfoy!"

The thought of his father's anger was all that kept Malfoy from slapping the girl. "Malfoys have never resorted to anything as low as poison. We are not above offering common courtesy."

"Malfoys are also not above sneaking magic diaries into young girls' bookbags, to enchant them to open the Chamber of Secrets!" spat Ginny.

There was no need for Draco to act surprised. His shock was genuine. "Who did that–my father?" Seeing Ginny's nod, he continued: "He told me he didn't know anything about it, the weasel! Lying to his own son–not like he ever really cared about me or anything but–" He cut off his tirade suddenly, realizing for the first time the full impact of what Ginny had just said.

"Wait a second," he said quietly. "You mean–he did that to you?"

Ginny nodded sullenly.

"Look, I won't do anything dumb like say Father wouldn't have ever done anything like that. I mean, I know he would. I know what he's done to me. I'm sure he'd do worse to someone else's child."

He saw Ginny's features soften slightly and seized his chance. "Look, just take the handkerchief, okay? I promise I haven't jinxed it or anything. And you don't have to return it–I've got tons more."

He helped Ginny to her feet. She was going to be tall. She was already almost as tall as he was.

"Curfew's only five minutes off. Better run," he whispered. She nodded and fled down the corridor toward the staircase.

He watched her until her flaming hair had disappeared from sight. At last, he had found his ticket to power.


	3. The Potions Dungeon

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Chapter 3: The Potions Dungeon

Draco found himself looking over at the Gryffindor table more often than usual over the next few weeks. He'd look in Ginny's direction until she looked up and saw him, then quickly drop his eyes.

So he'd made a connection. What good was it going to do if he never talked to her again? He wasn't sure how to approach her, though. He certainly couldn't do it in the Great Hall; even though Ginny wasn't a Mudblood, he wouldn't want a friendship with her to be public knowledge.

He needn't have worried. One night, as he made his rounds before curfew, he found Ginny waiting for him near the potions dungeon.

"Draco," she muttered, looking furtively around. Quickly, he pushed open the door of Snape's classroom and waved her inside. She entered with a quizzical look on her face. "Shhh!" he said, closing the door quietly. "The entrance to the Slytherin common room is right around the corner! If Crabbe and Goyle saw you here, they'd flatten you!"

They wouldn't have, at least he didn't think so, but it was a good excuse to talk to her alone.

"I have to give you back your handkerchief, Draco–the ones Mum buys me are all pink and this one really stands out, you know."

"Oh. I, I, er, I guess I would have taken it back last time if I'd known that," replied Draco, wondering how he was going to bring the conversation around to Harry Potter. "So, er, are you feeling better now?"

"Well, yes, I guess. Fred and George aren't teasing me as much any more," she grinned. "Now they're teasing Ron because they found him kissing Hermione!"

__

That figures, thought Draco. _Muggle-lover and Mudblood. A match made in heaven._

"Of course, they still tease me some. But no more than the ordinary brotherly teasing."

Draco scowled. "I wish I had a brother. Or a sister. Or a cousin, for that matter. It sounds dreadful, but I'd like to be teased at least once."

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. "Who did you play with, growing up?"

Draco grimaced. "Crabbe and Goyle, of course. My parents only let me associate with children of De–" He broke off suddenly, realizing what he'd been about to say.

"Oh, that's no secret," said Ginny. "Harry already told us they were there when You-Know-Who came back last year."

"Really?" said Draco in surprise. "Was Harry really there? Father won't tell me a thing about it. He treats me like such a child." Suddenly he felt like he was stretching his believability too far. Better to get her to trust him first, before he pried for information.

"So," he said, "Tell me what it's like to have six brothers." He saw the skeptical look on her face and interjected, "It's okay! You still have twenty minutes until curfew!"

She still looked like she didn't trust him. "Look," he drawled, "if you don't talk to me, I'm going to waste my conversational expertise on Crabbe and Goyle tonight! I've met Ron, and the twins, and Percy. Charlie was awfully good at Quidditch, I hear–tell me about him."

Ginny's face softened a bit. "Well, okay, just for a bit, okay?"

Draco nodded. And suddenly he felt like he was seeing a new girl. Ginny exploded into talk, telling him all about Charlie and his dragons, then Bill, and then her whole family. He responded as warmly as he could without being too insincere (which was only something of a strain, as he had always regretted being an only child).

Before he knew it, fifteen minutes had flown by and he had to usher a flushed and happy Ginny up to the entry hall. Looking around carefully to make sure that no one else was around, he whispered, "It's been really nice talking to someone intelligent for a change. Say, would you mind meeting me in the same place again–maybe on Halloween? If you leave the feast a bit early, no one would notice–we could have more time to talk."

Ginny nodded eagerly. "But don't say anything about this to Harry or Hermione–they'd kill me!" she wailed.

Draco smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it."


	4. Halloween

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Chapter 4: Halloween

Draco was too nervous to enjoy the Halloween feast properly. He picked worriedly at his food, knowing that what he did tonight would determine whether or not he could weasel the appropriate information out of Ginny. Tonight he would not try to play the spy. No, tonight was the night to cement her trust in him. He toyed with various approaches in his mind, weighing their merits and disadvantages.

On either side of him, Crabbe and Goyle sat devouring their food with the manners of a pack of jackals. How could he get away from them without arousing their suspicions?

A thought struck him and he forced down a smile. The dessert had been cleared away, and Dumbledore was announcing that dancing would begin soon. Millicent Bulstrode was making her way towards him. 

He turned to Crabbe. "Oh no–I promised Father that I would send him an owl about the–" He broke off and clapped a hand over his mouth. "I've got to go, if he doesn't get the message by tomorrow he'll be furious!"

Crabbe and Goyle looked at him dumbfoundedly (as usual) but nodded as if they understood. Draco got up and swept out of the Great Hall. As he opened the door to leave, he heard a familiar voice wailing, "Oh, Harry–I'd love to dance, really I would, but I don't think that chili agreed with me–I think I'm going to have to go see Madam Pomfrey!"

Draco waited at the bottom of the dungeon staircase, knowing that Ginny would be following him soon. Sure enough, in less than a minute she came clattering down, looking about her worriedly.

"Don't worry, I've already checked that nobody's here." Draco laughed inwardly when he saw Ginny jump. He hoped to give her a much bigger surprise later that night!

He took Ginny's arm gently and steered her into a side passage. "I've been worried about the Potions classroom. Snape's office is too near; if he caught me with you–"

Ginny nodded and let him direct her down the passage, down another flight of stairs, and around a corner into a damp dungeon.

"You know," he said, as they sat down on a wrought-iron garden bench (somewhat rusty from the moisture in the air, and looking distinctly out of place) "I once saw a picture of your house in the Daily Prophet. It looked really, uh, interesting! Is it held together by magic?"

Ginny nodded. "Yep. Mum and Dad had to add on every time another child was born. Sometimes they added sideways, and sometimes they added up–it's fun listening to Bill talk about it, he remembers all the additions–" She continued talking. Draco wasn't interested in the Burrow, so he let his mind wander, nodding and smiling at appropriate places to make her think that he was listening.

Funny, isn't it, he thought to himself, that the ones who can least afford children are the ones who have so many. Not that his parents hadn't triedhe could remember at least three occasions when his mother had told him that a sibling was on the way, and still he had none. Once, the child (a girl) had been stillborn; the other two times, she miscarried in the fourth or fifth month. And there were other times, too, when she had been puffy-eyed for no reason, and Draco strongly suspected that she had lost a child.

Two years ago, during the summer holidays, he had overheard his mother talking to Violet Parkinson, saying that the importance of keeping the bloodlines pure far outweighed the perils of inbreeding. But did they? Look at the Dark community now: the children that were produced (and they were rare) were sickly, or idiots, or both. Look at the Weasleys (whose family, he knew, was pure-blooded for at least four generations). They married who they wanted and reproduced like rabbits.

If the supporters of the Dark Arts were to flourish, they would need an infusion of fresh blood. He, Draco, could recruit new people to serve the Dark Lordno Muggle-borns, of course, but families like the Weasleys, which were more or less pure-blooded, would add new vitality to the children who would follow in his footsteps

Ginny Weasley would be his first recruit. He would show her the light (no, the Dark!). He listened to her voice, chattering on, musing that she would add intelligence and vitality to the Dark community that was sorely lacking. And health–her skin fairly glowed–not at all common among his Dark peers (he thought disdainfully of Pansy Parkinson and her anemic complexion).

He studied at her face. Her features were good; she would bring beauty back to the Dark community (he had to suppress a grimace as he thought of Millicent Bulstrode). Hopefully freckles were recessive, he thought. His gaze traveled downward, to her body, no longer the stick figure that he had always associated with her. She was becoming a womanthe type of woman that would help fill the empty, echoing manor houses he had visited (and lived in) as a child

"Draco?" Ginny's voice jolted him back to reality. "Are you okay?" Her eyes narrowed. "Are you listening to me?"

"Oh–sorry. I feel sort of, well, drunkwith you" He had meant to kiss her tonight, to bring her fully into his trust, and now seemed like a good time. His lips touched hers, his arms seemed to draw her nearer of their own accord. He could feel her body tremblingand then, as he drew her closer still, relaxing, surrendering.

She is mine, he thought. Should his mind be so disconnected as he experienced his first kiss, he wondered? He could not help but revel in the surety that he would win Ginny over to the Dark side. The thought of his power excited him, aroused him, and he kissed her even more passionately. It was almost, he thought, as if he were sucking her soul out through her mouth. Like a dementor.

He shuddered involuntarily. Ginny pulled away suddenly. "Draco? Is something wrong?"

His mind groped about for an excuse and latched onto the first idea he could find.

"Do you ever get your Mum talking to you in your mind, Ginny?"

"Oh. Yes. Put away your clothes, Ginny' and stuff like that?"

"Well–I just had this glimpse of my Mum telling me off for being with you–she's been arranging my marriage to Pansy Parkinson for several years now."

Ginny giggled; Draco scowled. He disliked Pansy strongly. Trying to change the subject to something more pleasant, he asked, "Were you trying to ask me something earlier?"

"Oh, well–yes. I've done all the talking tonight, and it seems I know so little about you. So I asked about your house."

"There's not much interesting about it," Draco said curtly. He didn't want to talk about himself. He might give himself away.

"Oh, please! I've always wanted to visit a manor house–please tell me what it's like!"

So he started, with only the briefest of descriptions, but with her eager coaxing he began to open up. He told her about the wings of the house, once built to house the huge Malfoy clan, now shuttered up and empty. He told her about the house elves, almost silly with boredom ("It actually helped when we lost Dobby," he admitted). He told her about the cliffs overlooking the sea, the hidden path down to the beach, the smugglers' cave (his name for it) where he had played with Crabbe and Goyle as a child.

He told how Crabbe had spent his first six years in a cottage on the estate, before moving with his parents to take care of Draco's grandmother's house (which became the property of Narcissa after her mother's death) and how Crabbe had always followed Draco around like a puppy dog. He told her how Goyle was the only one of the village children who he had been allowed to associate with.

He had never really opened up about his childhood before, and he found it rather disarming.

Suddenly he noticed that he'd run out of things to say. He was sitting on the bench, holding Ginny's hand, and staring at her. She was staring back at him, enthralled. He struggled with what to say next, and there was absolute silence for a few minutes. 

Then, suddenly, he heard the clatter of footsteps echoing down the corridor. "The feast is out! I've got to get back to Slytherin!" he said suddenly.

"Oh, Draco, do you have to?"

"Yes, Ginnydear. Curfew will be here soon, anyway. But I wish I didn't have to. I could stay here all night, talking with you. When do you think we can meet again?"

"Well, there is the Hogsmeade weekend in a week and a half. Could we meet behind the Shrieking Shack?"

"Hmmm." Draco's mind remembered vividly that the last time he'd visited the Shrieking Shack, he'd ended up with a face full of mud. "Maybe not. Behind the Three Broomsticks, maybe? There are woods not far from there where we could have some privacy." He sincerely hoped that Ginny didn't know that the woods behind the Three Broomsticks were a common place for Slytherin trysts.

"Oh, okay. See you then." Her eyes were shining excitedly. 

This was too easy, he thought. She was so easily persuaded. Poor Ginny. Did she know what he had in store for her? He kissed her goodbye. This time he was gentle. He didn't want to scare her.


	5. Of Loveand Hate

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Chapter 5: Of Loveand Hate

Draco met Ginny in Hogsmeade, not once, but several times. They found a meeting place near the Owlery and also continued to meet each other at the rusty bench in the dungeons.

Each time, before he met her, he would ask himself: is tonight the night? Can I ask her about Harry tonight? Always, it seemed, he came to the conclusion that she still didn't trust him completely. So he let his mission wait and talked about little things instead. 

It was, Draco thought, not an unpleasant mission that his father had given him. He tried not to kiss her too much–though his body wanted him to, in fact begged him to do much more–because he was afraid of bonding with her too much. She was just a tool, he told himself. Just a steppingstone on his path to power. But still, he enjoyed being with her.

They often did their homework side by side (being in separate years, they had different assignments). Draco discovered that Ginny was terribly clever at inventing predictions for Divination, and often found himself asking her for help. Since he helped her with Potions and DADA, he thought it was a fair trade.

Draco did worry for a few days that Crabbe's and Goyle's grades would fall, now that he wasn't helping them. But Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode took over as tutors for the rock-heads (as he fondly thought of them). Crabbe and Goyle weren't disappointed with this arrangement at all. He often saw them in the Slytherin common room with the girls, doing a lot more than homework. Draco was glad that Pansy's affections were being diverted away from him.

Of course, homework was not Draco's favorite pastime; nor was it Ginny's. Often, they would break away from their studies and chat about life. Ginny was just as interested in Slytherin house traditions as Draco was in Gryffindor's.

Often, the conversation centered around their families and life at home. At times like these, Draco tried to keep Ginny talking about life at the Burrow. He desperately avoided talking about his father. He would much rather hear about Molly (who sounded like she was a great mum) and Arthur (who was always good for a few laughs).

One day, however, when they were cuddled up in a thicket behind the Three Broomsticks, Ginny looked at him gently and said, "Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"You always say that we have to be secretive because of your father. Is he really that bad?"

Draco stood up suddenly. "I don't know if I can talk about this, Ginny."

Ginny stood up and took his hand. "Come on, Draco. Spit it out. My mum always says that problems don't look so bad if they're given a bit of fresh air."

Draco sighed and sat down again. "All right, Ginny. It's justwell, hard. You must understand that I don't tell anyone about this. Even my mother."

Ginny said nothing but put her arm around his shoulders. He turned to face her and drew her closer, kissing her desperately, as if to draw strength from her. He would tell her this. If he did, she would trust him. Completely.

He pulled away from her reluctantly and began, "You know the sort of associations my father has." Ginny nodded mutely. "You can guess, then, what sort of things he's willing to do to get what he wants." 

Ginny grimaced. "Sort of. At least, I can guess."

Draco looked her straight in the eyes. "When I was nine years old I disobeyed my father. I said no, right to his face." Ginny nodded, no doubt thinking of a time when she had done the same to her father. Draco continued, "He put the Cruciatus curse on me." He heard her gasp, felt her shudder.

"It was only for two or three seconds, but it was enough. Ever since then, if I threaten to disobey, he tells me that next time–next time it won't be so short."

Ginny was in tears. _I have got to teach that girl to be less emotional, _ Draco thought. "Didn't your mother ever try to stop him?" she asked.

Draco grimaced. "Come on, Ginny. My family's not like that. First of all, he told me not to tell mumand you know the punishment for disobedience! Yes, mum might have tried to stop him. Not that she's a goody two-shoes herself, but I don't think any mother would want to see her child suffer."

He paused, trying to decide if he really ought to say what came next. Yes, he did. She should know how Dark wizards operated.

"But even if she had known, I'm not sure she would have done anything. My mother's awfully scared of my father as well." Ginny's eyes widened in understanding. "You mean–"

He nodded. He'd never witnessed his father abusing his mother, but he knew it happened. It was, thought Draco, rather a despicable thing to do. A husband and wife should be partners. Even if they were ruthlessly ambitious and could trust no one else, they should be able to trust each other.

He looked up once more and saw a steely glint in Ginny's eyes. "I have GOT to get you away from that man," she said determinedly. "I ought to get her away too," she added softly.

Draco had his first ally.

"It's what I want, more than anything," he admitted truthfully. "What would you do to help me?"

"Anything," she said quietly.

"Really?"

"Yes. Anything."

He saw the look in her eyes. She meant it. Excellent. She really was his to command. The Dark Lord would be pleased with her. Intelligentand yet loyal and subservient. 

After a few moments of regarding her quietly, he spoke up again. "Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"You would never let anyone harm your child, would you?"

Her eyes widened; her nostrils flared. "Are you kidding? I'd hex him into kingdom come!"

"Ah. Good." It was what he needed to hear, for some reason. He pulled her towards him and began kissing her passionately. She was kissing him back just as eagerly. His hands explored her body in places he'd never dared touch before and he knew, from the noises that she was making, that she was enjoying herself as much as he was.

He was on top of her now, still kissing her, pressing his body against hers. They were still clothed, but he wished they weren't

__

Draco, what are you doing? He asked himself. _Get control of yourself._

He pulled himself off her with a groan and sat up. "Ginny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean toI mean, I really don't think we're ready for that sort of relationship yet."

Ginny smiled at him flirtatiously. "Sadly, you're probably right." She reached up and smoothed his hair back into place. "Besides, it's getting rather late."

Draco looked around, saw the sun just above the horizon, and leaped up. "Oh no! We need to leave separately–I'll go first–" 

Ginny grinned. "I'll go first. You need some time to cool off."

Draco glanced down at the lower half of his body and blushed. "Ummyeah. You better go first."

As he walked home alone, he tried to sort out what he had done that day. He had won her over, but at what cost? He wanted to bring her to the Dark Lord. He wanted to marry her off to a Death Eater to invigorate the bloodlines. He had always intended that Death Eater to be someone else.

And yet, he told himself, Virginia Malfoy was a very nice name.

Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?


	6. An Uncomfortable Ride

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Chapter 6: An Uncomfortable Ride

Draco only had time for two more meetings with Ginny before the Christmas holidays. They had decided that the topic of "How to get rid of Lucius Malfoy" was off-limits until after break, so they talked instead about their end-of-term exams and what Christmas was like at their homes.

And then it was time for him to leave her. He couldn't say good-bye properly, without giving away their secret. He winked at her as they boarded the Hogwarts Express, but that was all he could do.

He shared a compartment, once again, with Crabbe and Goyle. This time, though, Pansy and Millicent were also in there. Even before the train started moving, Crabbe was getting his hands on Millicent and Goyle was nibbling on Pansy's ear. Draco tried to bury himself in his book, but after half an hour or so, he couldn't ignore the sounds coming from his travelling companions.

Too bad I can't be doing stuff like that with Ginny, he thought. But ugh. Not in public. I can't believe those idiots are feeling their girlfriends up in front of an audience.

He slammed his book shut, slipped out of the compartment, and walked down the corridor in search of a new seat.

The first compartment he came to was full of first-year Ravenclaws playing Exploding Snap. Nope. Next was a compartment containing the Creevey brothers and a bunch of other Gryffindors, pawing over photo albums and squealing excitedly. Draco shuddered. Definitely not there.

There were only four people in the next compartment. Draco swallowed suddenly. Did he dare? He opened the door and stood, uncertainly, trying to decide whether or not to enter.

"Do you want something, Malfoy?" Ron Weasley's voice sounded irritated but he made no move to get up from his seat. His arm was draped over Hermione Granger.

"Just looking for a place to sit," said Draco uncomfortably. "Do you mind?"

Ron and Hermione shot glances across the aisle at Harry, who spoke up. "Don't your, er, buddies like you any more?"

Draco blushed. "They let me in their compartment but, well, I was rather, well, annoyed at how they were behaving with their girlfriends"

Hermione gave him a know-it-all glance. "So? You're a prefect. Dock them for unseemly conduct."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Right, Granger. You are also a prefect. Why don't you go over and do just that, since you're the brave Gryffindor."

Ron looked at Hermione and she looked back at him and nodded. Together, they got up and walked out of the compartment. Draco sat across from Ginny with his book. "I won't disturb you. Just looking for some peace and quiet."

Ron and Hermione came back a moment later. Both were flushed and giggly. "I think I'll wait until they're done with, ummm, how shall we say, the act before I tell them off," said Hermione.

"They're that far already?" asked Draco. "They didn't have their clothes off when I left a minute ago."

"Well," said Ron, "Let's just say that's what we _think_ they were doing under those blankets"

"I put a darkening charm on the window and locked the door," said Hermione smugly. "But still–doing it with the other couple in the room–ugh!"

Draco picked up his book and lost himself in it again. He looked up every now and then to glance at Ginny, who was trying her hardest not to stare at him.

When the food cart came, he put down his book long enough to eat and tried to make polite conversation.

"So, Harry, are you visiting Ron this Christmas?" (He hoped not; he didn't want a Death Eater attack on the Burrow.)

"No, the Dursleys are actually having me back. Their vicar asked why I didn't ever come home for Christmas, so they thought they'd do something righteous for a change." Ron and Hermione whooped in delight at this pronouncement and even Ginny giggled.

__

Rats, Draco thought. He knew the Muggle home was well warded and that Harry would be safe there. Too bad. He wanted so badly for his father to tell him that his mission was complete, so that he could spend extra time with Ginny.

He retreated back into Antidotes for Nasty Poisons and soon fell asleep.

When he awoke, Ginny was prodding him awake. "Mr. Malfoy, we are almost to the station," she said.

He smiled. "Thank you, Miss Weasley. I will go and find my trunk now." Nodding almost politely at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, he added: "Thank you for not hexing me out of existence." And then he left.


	7. An Unpleasant Interlude

****

Chapter 7: An Unpleasant Interlude

Draco was glad that his father wasn't there to meet him at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Narcissa gave her son a hug. "Hello, sweetums, have a good term?"

"Yes, mum, thanks."

"Oh good. I've had the house-elves make some Christmas cookies for you." She looked at him solemnly. "Hopefully you'll have time to enjoy them before your father gets back. I believe he wants to talk to you today."

__

Well, that's lovely, thought Draco irritably.

He did, in fact, have fifteen minutes to enjoy the cookies and hot chocolate. It was nice to make small talk with his mother. She fawned over him, telling him how mature he was becoming. _Probably has something to do with the fact that I have a woman, now,_ thought Draco. But of course he didn't tell her that.

"And how is Pansy, dear?"

"Ummm" he blushed. "Well, she and Goyle seem to be getting along very, very well, if you get my drift."

Narcissa sniffed irritably. "Why, Draco, you aren't going to let a prize like that get away from you, are you?"

Draco scowled. "Mum, the Goyle thing was her idea, not mine. I know she'd be a good match" (_Yeah, right! _he thought) "But if she doesn't want me, well, I'll just have to look around, won't I? There are some pretty fourth-years. I just don't know them too well yet, because I'd always assumed that Pansy...well" He broke off, not knowing how many lies he could feed his mother. He smiled slyly, thinking that his mother didn't have to know that the fourth-year he had his eye on was a Gryffindor.

"Well, I suppose that would work. I am younger than your father after all. Cecilia Nott is a third-year, now, isn't she?"

Draco nodded. "But mother, a third-year is just too young to have any sort of relationship. I couldn't possibly consider"

"No, love. Not yet. Just wait. I'll work something out for you."

__

No thanks, mum, he thought to himself. _I can handle my own life._

If he thought the conversation with his mother was bad, he was surprised at the interview with his father. There were no formalities, no greetings, no preliminaries at all.

"Well? Do you have the information yet?"

"No sir. I do have a source though."

"Well, that's an improvement. Who is it?"

"I think my source would rather remain anonymous. Family situations mightbe compromised if involvement with me was discovered" (Draco was trying very hard to keep his source gender-neutral in his father's eyes. It was too damn hard, he thought.)

"All right, fine. But why no information?"

"It took time to cultivate the trust of my source. It's only in the last week that I think this person actually came to trust me enough to give me information like that"

"A week is enough time."

"Well, I found out that Harry is going to be with the Muggles over the holidays, but that's not much help to you, is it?"

Lucius stood and started pacing back and forth. "Well, I suppose that's a valid excuse. But hear this, Draco. The Dark Lord is going to make an attempt on Potter's life in June. He has a plan and it _will_ work. I want to give him Potter before that. He is impatient and would welcome the change of plans. I want to get my hands on Potter before April. I want to hear from you by the end of February, at the latest."

He swiveled and glared directly at Draco. "If I have not heard from you by that point, then I will come and find you. And if I do not get the requisite information from you by then, I will have to punish you. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded sullenly. Yes, he understood. He and Ginny would get to work on their plans to dispose of Lucius as soon as he got back. He would not delay longer.

After that first day, Draco knew he would not enjoy the holidays much. He spent much of his time in his room reading. Ruffy, the house elf who had been his nanny when he was a child, fussed over him and brought him treats. His mother came in some time and gave instructions to Ruffy on assembling a new wardrobe for him (which would be sure to catch Cecilia Nott's eye). Draco kept on reading during these conversations. He knew his input would mean nothing at all to the women. He certainly did not want to talk about Miss Nott.

Finally, finally, it was time to go to the place he was starting to consider his real home. Time to go back to Hogwarts.

On the Hogwarts Express, he started out with Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Millicent as usual but soon sought out the company of Ginny (which meant, of course, putting up with the Wonder Trio). They nodded at him, not asking questions about why he was there. Ron was even courteous enough to ask whether he would like to play a game of Exploding Snap.

Draco was about to say no, but realized that Ron might be his brother-in-law some day. So he agreed, grudgingly, and grinned wickedly at Ron after defeating the Weasley boy soundly.

After lunch, Hermione went off in search of Crabbe and Goyle (to take points from Slytherin) but came back blushing again. "How long can you go at it without interruption?" she asked.

And then the journey was over. Draco walked downstairs to the Slytherin common room, wishing he could be alone with Ginnyvery soon.

Oh, it was good to be back.


	8. Out of Control

****

Chapter 8: Out of Control

At their first meeting, Draco told Ginny about his mother's efforts to get him matched up with Cecilia Nott, which sent her into giggle fits. He told her, too, that his father was pressuring him to join the Death Eaters. That was sort of true: it had always been an unspoken understanding between him and his father that it would happen. And his father _had_ asked how long it would be before he was ready.

After that they didn't want to talk any more, but spent a while enjoying being close to each other again after so much time apart.

And then Ginny spoke up softly. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. We've got to get you away from your father."

"Yes, love, I know. But how? Murder is out. Going to Azkaban would be far worse than living in terror of my father"

They spent a few minutes coming up with increasingly preposterous ideas for disposing of Lucius Malfoy, but none seemed like a real solution. (Sending a group of rampaging hippogriffs through Malfoy Manor?)

"Draco?" said Ginny abruptly.

"Yes, Gin?"

"If your father left you alonebut disinherited youhow would you react?"

"I've been thinking about that for a long time," Draco sighed. "And so I save most of my allowance. I have over eight hundred Galleons in my personal Gringotts vault."

"Wow–eight hundred Galleons!" Ginny looked shocked. "That would be enough to live on for a few years anywayand if you got a job" Her voice trailed off and she blushed before adding, "And of course, if you found someone to share your flat with you, you could each pay half of the rent, and it would last even longer."

Draco drew her close. "Ginny, love, if I found the perfect person to share my flat with, I wouldn't want her to be out working. I'd want her to stay home and take care of our children."

They kissed passionately for a while before Ginny said: "Do you think you could fit all of the children you're going to have in a flat?"

Draco grinned. "Probably not. I'll probably need to buy a ramshackle house out in the middle of nowhere and keep adding on every time I have another child."

They giggled and kissed some more but Draco's heart was no longer in it.

__

Bloody hell, what am I thinking? I'm not even sixteen andand I'm hinting to a girl that I want to marry her and have childrenPatience, Draco, patience.

"Draco, it's getting late, don't you have to start your rounds?"

"Yes, I do. Why does this time of night come so quickly?"

He left her side then, but they met every night after that, talking of how to get rid of Lucius once and for all. By the end of January they were convinced that he would have to die. The best idea was Ginny's (Merlin, but she would make a good Death Eater). 

Her idea was to make up several bottles of after-shave that looked just like the ones in Sensara's Wizard Scents, and taint them with a mild contact poison. Those would be swapped for real after-shave bottles in Sensara's. Draco and Ginny would buy one, add a more potent version of the same contact poisonand Draco would send it to his father as a birthday present. Hopefully the Aurors would think that Madam Sensara had made a mistake when brewing the after-shave. The ingredients of the contact poison were common potion ingredients, after all.

Hopefully they wouldn't consider it a murder attempt–since others would buy the same scent and be poisoned. 

The only thing that worried Ginny was that some of the older Hogwarts students might end up with rash. _She doesn't worry about murdering my father, but she worries about students itching,_ thought Draco. _Now that makes a lot of sense, doesn't it?_

On the twelfth of February, Draco went to Hogsmeade alone. Ginny was out in the woods around town gathering potion ingredients (they didn't dare buy or steal them, which would leave a trail for Aurors to follow). Draco decided to get her a Valentine's Day present.

Of course, he thought, it would have to be a belated Valentine's present. They were avoiding each other for two months–possibly more. That was part of Ginny's plan. She had decided to brew the contact poisons and plant them in Sensara's. She did not want to be affiliated with Draco in any way, shape, or form–for then she would have a motive for killing Lucius. And she didn't want Draco in on any part of this, or else he would be found out and sent to Azkaban.

In the mean time, he didn't have to worry about her seeing what he was going to buy. If he bought her present now, it would be a complete surprise. It would just have to stay locked in his trunk until after Easter, away from Crabbe's and Goyle's prying eyes.

As he turned from Main Street onto Goblin Alley, heading for the jeweler's, he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. "Father?" he said, without turning around.

"Yes, Draco. I need the information now."

"But Father, I'm not sureI thought I had another week"

Lucius Malfoy's gaze darkened briefly. Then he smiled politely and said, "No matter, Draco. Come, have a drink with me." 

He steered Draco toward the Three Broomsticks. Handing a few galleons to Madam Rosmerta, he said, "Private room, please." Madam Rosmerta nodded and indicated a small parlor to the right of the entrance. "Go on in, Draco. I'll get the drinks."

Draco sat down and within a minute Lucius reappeared holding a mug of butterbeer and another of mulled mead. He set the drinks down on the table and closed and locked the door.

"So, Draco, how are classes going?" His father took a sip of his mead while waiting for the answer. 

"Oh, fairly well," replied Draco, sipping his butterbeer awkwardly.

His father watched him for a while, then said, "So. Down to business. Who is your, ahem, correspondent?"

"Ginny Weasley." (Now why, thought Draco, had he been so eager to give out her name?)

His father smiled. "How appropriate. Is she close to Harry?"

"Not particularly. But she's close to her brother, Ronald, who is one of Harry's best friend. And she's the only female friend of Miss Granger, who is Harry's other best friend."

"I suppose that's good enough. And do you have information on when I can find Harry out of Hogwarts?"

"Yes. He's worried about Ginny. He wants to meet her in the woods behind the Shrieking Shack during the next Hogsmeade weekend." (Oh hell, why had he told his father that? He didn't want Ginny mixed up in this mess.)

"And why would he be worried about her?"

"Because she's never around. Because she's usually around me." (Good grief, why the hell couldn't he keep his mouth shut?)

"Aha. And are you two, you know, intimate?"

Draco blushed. "Not in the way you mean, sir. I wouldn't let myself get that involved with her." (Why couldn't I just tell him to mind his own business?)

"But you're pretty sure that she's telling the truth?"

"Of course. Ginny lies–all the time, in fact–but not to me." Now was the time to say it. "I think she'd make a pretty good Death Eater, father."

Lucius smiled as he stood up from the table. "Yes, she does seem rather susceptible to the influence of the Dark Lord, doesn't she?" He ruffled Draco's hair affectionately and Disapparated.

Draco got up from the table without finishing his butterbeer. Why, oh why, hadn't he been able to stop talking to his father? He went down the hill towards Hogwarts, berating himself for not watching what he said. 

It wasn't until he neared the gates of Hogwarts that it struck him. When he was home for the holidays, he'd overheard his father telling his mother that Mr. Borgin had sold him an extra-strong Veritaserum. Oh, shit.


	9. Too Late? Or Is It?

****

Chapter 9: Too Late? Or is It?

Now, somehow, Draco was going to have to tell Ginny that she was in danger. But how?

When Draco tried to catch her eye in the Great Hall, she'd turn away and pretend she didn't notice. He didn't dare owl her (his eagle owl was too distinctive–and notes were solid evidence, besides). He tried finding her between classes, but it seemed she had taken seriously her responsibility of avoiding him.

Three weeks went by quickly. It was Hogsmeade time again. He still had one chance to warn her. He had to do it in Hogsmeade. If anyone saw him talking to her–hell, he didn't care. Losing Ginny would be worse than the Cruciatus curse.

From his hiding place in the alley, Draco saw Harry making his way up High Street in Hogsmeade, toward the Shrieking Shack. Ginny hadn't come by yet. Good. There was still time to warn her. 

Then he heard her coming. He'd become very familiar with the sound of her footsteps. He reached out, grabbed a hold of her cloak, and pulled her into the alley with him.

"Draco?"

"ShhhGinny, don't go up there to meet him. Please!"

"Draco, you aren't jealous, are you? Because I swear, I don't love him, only you" She kissed him tenderly on the lips.

He looked into her eyes. Surely she could see that he was telling the truth if he did that. Or could she? "Ginnyit's just not safe. Pleasetrust me." His body was starting to shiver with fear. How could he make her believe him without letting her know that he had been, well, a slimy git?"

"Draco! What is going to happen?" Her eyes narrowed; her fingers were digging sharply into his shoulders. (And to think that he'd actually been turned on by her long nails!)

For the first time this year, Draco realized that he was not the one in control of this relationship. She was. She had been for a long time. He had given himself to her, not to suit his father, but of his own free will. And so he told her what she wanted to know.

"Ginny, my fatherwell, he's going to ambush Harryhe's wanted this for a long time"

Ginny released his shoulders and took a step backward. "Draco! You told him where Harry was going to be, didn't you?"

Draco looked at the ground sullenly and nodded. "I didn't mean to, though. I didn't want to do anything that would hurt you"

"But it's okay to hurt Harry?"

"No!" he gasped. "If he were hurt, you would be too! Come on, Gin, you've had almost four years of Defense Against the Dark Arts. You know that people have ways of ferreting out information like that! Well, my father isn't above using some of those methods."

Ginny snorted. "When, exactly, did you tell him Harry would be there?"

"Quarter past twelve."

"Ah." Ginny smiled. "There's still time to warn him, then." And she dashed out of the alley, and up the street in the direction of the Shrieking Shack. What a Gryffindor she was. Draco stood still, gaping at her, for a minute before running after her. There was time, but not much. 

He had plans for Ginny. He couldn't let his father get his hands on her.


	10. Draco Malfoy Changes

****

Chapter 10: Draco Malfoy Changes

He was not quite to the clearing when he heard her voice.

"Harry!"

"Ginny. There you are!"

"Harry, you've got to get out of here! Lucius Malfoy is coming!"

Draco arrived at the edge of the clearing. He was just a few feet from Ginny. Harry was sitting about twenty feet away, under a large oak tree. Now Ginny was walking again, towards Harry. 

__

No, Ginny, thought Draco. _Stay away from him. Get out of here._

There were three small pops as Lucius Malfoy and two hooded figures (Crabbe and Goyle, judging from their size) apparated into the clearing.

"Harry Potter. Howconvenient to find you here," said his father in the oily voice that he reserved for diplomatic occasions.

"Keep away from him!" Ginny Weasley was reaching for her wand. Draco couldn't see her face, but he was sure it was scarlet with fury.

"Ah, Miss Weasley," said Lucius, turning toward her and bowing slightly. "Thank you for, once again, being a suitable tool for the purposes of the Dark Lord."

Ginny dropped the hand holding her wand. Her whole body was shaking; her head was bowed. _What in the world does she think of me now?_ thought Draco. 

And then he looked up. His father was raising his wand, pointing it at her. And his father's words, that day in the study, came back to his mind. "Eliminating just one witness is not a difficulty." Oh, no. Not Ginny. She was the first of his recruits. She would be a hell of a Death Eater. She would save the Malfoys from extinction. Not his Ginny. Was Father blind?

But that smile was on his father's face–the smile he'd worn right before he'd put the Cruciatus curse on his own son. Draco knew what was going to happen.

"Noooooo!" he screamed. And he threw his body in front of hers as Lucius said the words. 

"Avada Kedavra."

There was a blinding flash of green light. And there was a dreadful tearing feeling, as though someone were sucking him away from GinnyPlease,no, he thought, holding on to her for dear life. I must stay here to protect Ginny. And then, at last, the feeling abated.

He stood up and turned to face his father. Lucius was standing stock still, jaw dropped, staring at him and Ginny. Draco took one step toward his father, holding out his hand. "Give me your wand, father." 

Lucius was trembling, but he held his wand firmly, as though dueling, and said, "Every Dark wizard worth his salt can find a path to power. This is my path, Draco, and you have interfered once too often."

Draco reached down to grab his own wand, but it wasn't there. He caught a glimpse of his hand. Bloody hell. It was transparent. He was a ghost, like that idiot Binns. Somehow he'd died. _Well, of course, you fool,_ he told himself. _That's what the killing curse does to people._

"Avada Kedavra!" Again, that familiar rush of green light. This time it passed right through his ghostly body. There was a cry from behind him and then–incredibly–the green light passed through him yet again, from the other direction, and hit his father.

Lucius Malfoy crumpled to the ground.

There was silence only for a moment; then Harry whipped out his wand. (_Merlin, thought Draco, he has incredible reflexes; no wonder I never beat him at Quidditch.)_ A string of hexes flew through the air, stunning and binding the two Death Eaters who were still staring, in shock, at Lucius Malfoy's body.

Draco and Harry turned towards Ginny's body at the same time. Incredibly, she whimpered. She was alive.

Harry scooped her up in his arms (_I should have been the one to do that,_ thought Draco, _I want to be the one doing that_) and held her tightly against him. She was only barely conscious.

"Ginny, Ginny, how in Merlin's name did you survive?" Harry was asking. Draco had been wondering the same thing. He walked closer, to stand over his own fallen body, and suddenly he understood.

"Potter, you idiot, look at her forehead. Don't you understand?"

Harry reached up and gently brushed the wavy hair away from her face. There was a scar there, in the form of a serpent. He looked at Draco as if seeing him for the first time. 

"You did for her what my mother did for me, didn't you?"

Draco dropped his eyes. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. "I guess so." He had lost Ginnyno, she had lost him

"I misjudged you, Malfoy. I'm sorry."

Draco lifted his eyes and looked squarely at Harry. "No, Potter, you didn't. I was the one who misjudgedyou, my father, life. I think I finally understand."

And he did. He, and his father, had been so caught up in their own ambition that they didn't appreciate what was truly worthwhile in life. Those things that really meant something–those were the things that Voldemort was fighting against.

Ginny was opening her eyes now. She looked up at Harry, and then at Draco–and the remains of Draco's body. "Draco–" she whimpered. And then she looked at Harry again and clung to him tightly.

"Goodbye, Ginny. I still love you," he whispered. And then, turning to Harry, he added: "Take good care of her, or I'll haunt you for the rest of your life."

He floated off in the direction of Hogwarts. He had to find Dumbledore. He had to help Dumbledore stop Voldemort. He would be an excellent spy in this form. He would help defeat the Dark Lord so that Ginny could live in peace. Even if she loved Harry.

Lucky Harry, he thought. Harry will be the one to kiss her, to spend hours talking to her, to hold her close at night. Harry will be the one whose manor house is filled with her children. 

As he flew through the air toward the castle, he wept ghostly silver tears. Lucky, lucky Harry. 


End file.
